From the author's desk: Hiya. This is not my first fanfiction, but this is my first foray into the A:TLA fandom, and hopefully not my last. And since I'm a diehard Zutarian, what could be a better entrance for me?

Anyway, this is a slight AU for the very end of the series. That little party in Ba Sing Se didn't happen.

Please enjoy!

Note to reviewers: PLEASE DON'T REVIEW JUST TO TELL ME ZUTARA ISN'T CANON, AND IS THEREFORE BLASPHEMY. I know it's not. I don't particularly care. I feel like Zuko and Katara make better sense together, and that's why I support them. Tl;dr – don't flame me because you don't like the pairing.

Disclaimer: A:TLA belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon. I'm just playing with the characters.


His Anchor
by dreamsweetmydear

She finds him standing in front of his father's portrait, dressed again in the simple red shirt and pants she's become so used to seeing him in. She's just heard that the rumors are true—that he and Mai have broken up, after being reunited for only a few short days.

Katara feels she knows him pretty well by now, and knows he's not the same person who was forced to leave his home three years ago, not the same person who willingly left it again to go against his father.

Katara's not sure about Mai, though. She has mostly known her in the capacity of an enemy, and slightly as an amicable acquaintance.

She's not sure why they ended things, though she does have a guess. She hopes that Mai and Zuko didn't end their relationship on bad terms. She needs that reassurance to know that things will work out between her and Aang when she talks to him.

Seeing him now, alone in an empty hallway, away from the eyes of the world, and facing generations of history, Katara is painfully reminded of how young he really is. He's only a few years older than her.

Here, as he stands alone, she can see the weight of the world on his shoulders. And she remembers his first bumbling attempt to convince them he'd changed, the nervous smile on his face as he stood next to Appa at the Western Air Temple, and the resignation in his eyes when they rejected him and told him to never come back.

But they—she—had been wrong about him. He proved that to her when he helped her find Yon Rah. And somewhere between being hurt by him in Ba Sing Se and their final battle with Azula, Katara realized that maybe Zuko was meant to be with them all along.

He just had to take the long way to get there.

And she just had to take the long way to understand him, accept him.

To love him.

To admire his passion, to be swept away in his care, to have her heart skip a beat at his smile or the brightness of his eyes.

Watching him study these visual testaments to his family's history of tyranny, Katara remembers the Agni Kai just days ago, and remembers Zuko's sacrifice for her.

And she remembers feeling like her heart was ripped out of her as she thought that the unthinkable had happened. That he was gone. That he wasn't coming back, and that she had missed the chance to say something important to him.

She watches him now, dressed in the familiar simple shirt and pants, his hair released from its topknot, and the crown that marks him a king. Underneath that shirt, Katara knows that he still wears bandages over his chest, knows that the place where the lightning struck him is still burned and sensitive and painful. She knows he is still hurting physically, reeling mentally, and now numb emotionally.

Things happening too fast can do that to a person.

And now she knows that he knows that the group is supposed to be leaving tomorrow. Sokka is going to escort Suki and the other Kyoshi Warriors back home, before heading to the Southern Water Tribe to help the rebuilding effort. Aang is heading back to the Earth Kingdom with Toph, first to take her to visit her parents in Gaoling, to try and convince them one last time that their daughter is anything but the fragile child they think she is, and then to get word to the furthest colonies and occupied regions that the war is over. And Uncle Iroh is going back to Ba Sing Se, to get his teashop back.

Come tomorrow, Zuko will be alone again, with a nation to run and restore and convince that peace and love really is what this world needs.

Aang has hinted that he wants her to come with him and Toph.

More like expects she will be joining them.

He should know by now that Katara can't be forced to do anything. She only hopes that Aang will understand how she feels when she talks to him.

Stepping out from shadows at the end of the hallway, Katara comes to stand next to Zuko, and joins him in staring at the painting of his father.

Slowly, she takes his hand, lacing her fingers through his, the warmth of his palm against hers sending a tingle down her spine.

He turns to look at her, amber-gold eyes guarded, the rest of his face impassive, and it breaks her heart to see him so scared of tomorrow's separation, and more importantly, of his future as a ruler.

She releases his hand and embraces him, mindful not to put too much weight against his chest, but holding him tightly just the same. His arms come around her waist, and she realizes just how keyed up he is by how tightly he holds her to him.

"I can't do this on my own," he whispers, voice hoarse with worry, his face muffled in her hair.

"You won't have to," she whispers back, resting her hands against his back.

"I'm afraid of turning into him." His confession is soft, and reminds her again that he is still just a boy, just like she is still just a girl, and they have both been thrust into adulthood too early in their lives.

"I'm sure you won't." Katara leans back, and looks up at him, bring her hand to rest against his left cheek, her thumb gently tracing the edge of his scar. "I'm sure you're going be great in the years to come."

She enjoys the feeling as he leans into her touch, and longs to say the words resting in her heart. But right now isn't the right time.

Too much has happened to him too fast. She needs to give him time to regroup, refocus.

She knows she's not really known for her patience, but she can wait for this. For him.

"I wish you weren't leaving," he says, his expression melancholy, and she smiles at him, wanting nothing more than to ease his sadness.

"I'm not," she replies back. "I can't leave you. Not like this." Not ever, she continues silently.

She doesn't know if he gets the hidden meaning behind her words, but she can't help but smile even more when his face brightens, and his lips stretch into that familiar grin, and he hugs her like this is the most amazing thing he has ever heard.

-END-